


Gratefulness, Friendship and Good Luck.

by SiobhanMcG



Series: Seven kisses [1]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: A soppy gay writes soppy gays before she could write properly, Corah, F/F, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 13:23:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12960132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiobhanMcG/pseuds/SiobhanMcG
Summary: Part of a series called "7 kisses" which I'm not sure I'll ever finish. Who doesn't love some good old countess/lady's maid romance eh!





	Gratefulness, Friendship and Good Luck.

_Gratefulness_

It was all her fault and she knew it, but forgiveness had never come easy to ever; not even to herself. Sarah liked to pretend she was a calm, calculated woman, and up to a certain degree she definitely was, but not when matters of the heart were concerned. Her temper could take her over completely at the worst of times, this had been one. She had unjustly lashed out once more against her ladyship and was dreading the consequences anxiously, attempting to distract herself by doing all the sewing and mending she could find. Unfortunately, as she liked to stay on top of matters it wasn't an awful lot, not by far enough to distract her from that one particular memory she was so desperately trying to suppress. Her stomach lurched as she recalled one of the most horrid decisions she had ever made, she hadn't been a kind person and never minded it, but for once she wished she were.

It was that one wretched afternoon in June when jealousy had gotten the better of her and she had first lashed out against her ladyship and caused the death of an innocent child and immeasurable pain to her ladyship; both mentally and physically. She thought she had started her divine retribution after assisting her whilst giving birth to the dead child which lasted for more than six hours. Sarah had never been faint-hearted, but it had been gruelling and for the first time in her life she had thought she might actually faint. As her ladyship held onto her, she felt her heart being wrangled in her chest. They had cried next to each other, Cora with loud heartbreaking sobs, Sarah with silent tears streaking her face unnoticed by anyone. But it had been arrogance to think that that was even the start of her atonement. The evening after the garden party had been when she had learned what true remorse was. She had been readying her ladyship for bed, undoing the pins in her hair and softly massaging her head to make her as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. As she was done tying the ribbon of the braid, her hands had lingered on her ladyship's shoulders, squeezing them softly. She didn't want to go until she was dismissed, sensing her ladyship might need the presence for a little longer.

The countess had turned around, taken Sarah's hand into her own and looked at her with the same combination of suffering and gratitude she had shown her maid earlier that day during the garden party. Without a word she led them towards the sofa and sat down, her body void of the elegance it usually possessed. Lady Grantham had put her hand on Sarah's shoulder and slowly pushed her down onto the sofa, until she was sitting next to her, facing up at her mistress and staring into the crystal blue eyes carrying a crushing sense of defeat and guilt. Sarah knew that the woman blamed herself for losing the boy, a realization that crippled her; causing a deep and painful stab in her chest. Sarah cast her eyes downwards, the feelings she had tried to keep concealed during the day threatening to overcome her, knowing she had no right to cry next to this woman, when she was the miserable cow that was the source of it all. Still not speaking, Lady Grantham took her maid’s hands in her own, enveloping the rough and worn fingers with her own softer ones, and leant forward as she softly kissed her maid’s brow.

“Thank you… Sarah. Not as a maid, but as my dear friend and confidante, I fear I would not have been able to manage anything the last week without your relentless aid and support” she now whispered as tears began to well up.

Sarah tightly gripped the hands holding her own and looked up, fighting her back her own tears now, as she answered: “Anything for you m’lady” and with that held her mistress’ shaking body as she silently sobbed against her shoulder.  
  
***  
_Friendship_

  
"Come on Sarah"

"Oi, give a woman a moment. These dresses weren't made to get shut off in the middle of a forest"

Cora barely suppressed a giggle. Her ever so austere maid was a sight to behold as she was wriggling herself out of her usual black garment. The usual methodological precision she used when undressing the countess was absent as she was changing her own clothes. Her elbows got caught in the long sleeves of her dress and she almost lost her balance ridding herself of her thick stockings. As she finally fastened the buttons of the thin light blue dress, her bun had become half undone and the curls had lost most of their curve. With a grin her maid removed the pins from her sagging bun; Cora aiding her with the more tangled ones. Both knew it wasn't necessary, but they enjoyed the unspoken ritual. As the countess folded the thick cotton she watched her maid braiding her long hair with fascination. She might be able to properly fold clothes now, but Cora felt she would never master the fast, nimble movements with which her maid was braiding.

Their outings had become slowly become a habit after "the incident", although both knew incident wasn't quite the right word to call it. At first, they had avoided each other as much as they could, as far as that was possible. For a month they avoided all eye contact or superfluous conversation. Until Cora had planned the first outing to salvage what was left of their working relationship. She had picked the forest to provide some equal grounding for her maid and to ensure they could speak freely, without nosey mothers-in-law or sulky daughters.

With a final movement she blew her fringe out of her eyes. She stared down at Cora, raising an eyebrow and putting her hands on her hips. The countess had abandoned her folding halfway.

"Well, come on then ey. We 'aven't got all day" Sarah challenger her mistress in jest, before she took the garment and folded it herself in a quick, practised movement. The countess pouted and threw her hands into her lap.

"I was almost finished you know."

"I know, but we really 'avent got all day, love. So, if you don't mind I'd like to make better use of our time, /not/ folding dresses. It in't like I don't see enough of that back home." Sarah joked as she dropped a light kiss on Cora's nose.

Kisses. Another habit that had crept in since "the incident". Sarah hadn't minded it. It had started with holding hands; it was the day they had patched up their working relation. As they had walked out of the forest, the countess had grabbed her hand, saying how happy she was they were friends again as she squeezed it. They had only let go when the abbey came into sight again.

They walked through the forest with their hands intertwined, following a small stream to the meadow they knew was close. Sarah wasn't quite sure what their relationship was at this point. In any other circumstance, she would have shied away from linking arms or holding hands with another woman; the amicable closeness between women had always been a slap in her face. Many might think he distant or cold because of it, but she preferred to steer clear of any form of physical proximity. The embarrassment had never left her, nor had the feeling of guilt she felt whenever she touched another unsuspecting woman. But then again, she normally didn't kiss any of these women either, or allow them to kiss her. Cora, as soon as she became Cora, was different. She allowed her to link their arms, kiss her cheek and stroke her hair. Sarah still felt the occasional guilt when she fantasizes about feeling the other woman's lips on her own, but it wasn't accompanied with the usual feeling of disgust and self-hatred. The other woman wouldn't mind. She had accepted her. Allowed her. When they went out, she would change once they reached the forest, shedding her black servants uniform, putting the lighter and thinner blue frock. It wasn't just a hand down from Cora, she had bought the fabric and sewn it together herself. With her hair down in a braid and dress flowing lightly, they were on equal footing. Neither was quite sure how it all came to be, but it was of trivial importance. They were something between close friends and something... something else. Sarah tightened the hold on her friend's hand. Whatever this was, she wasn't going to let it go. She refused to admit it, but she had fallen in love with Cora. Cora Crawley. Cora. She sang her name in her head; her heart skipping beats as she did so. Cora. Cora. Cora. She suppressed the desire to start singing and skipping. Cora giggled as she couldn't stop herself from swinging their intertwined hands slightly. Sarah felt her cheeks light up. She was acting like a giddy teenager -not that she had ever been a giddy teenager- and despite her embarrassment she couldn't deny she was enjoying herself. She felt like twirling her mistress around and catching her in her arms. Sarah contained herself.

Containment. Cora had felt so contained in the months leading up to "the incident". Her husband had practically deserted her. She drove the thoughts away by managing the house and arguing with Isobel, often she purposefully drove the woman up the wall. Anything to keep her thoughts away from her husband. When he started sleeping with the maid she felt something snap. As all walls were closing in on her, her mind wandered to a place long deserted. Initially it hadn't been Sarah she thought about when she was longing to be held at night. She had fantasised about others, their long hair, slender fingers and red lips. On a few guilty occasions, she had even imagined her sister-in-law to be with her. After a particularly taxing day spent arguing with Isobel and seeing her husband lust after a mousy maid, Cora has resorted to her bottle of "medicinal" brandy. The alcohol made the countess swoon lightly as her maid undressed her. The alcohol hit had hit her harder in her fatigue and stress. It was by accident that her eyes had focussed on the other woman's lips. Not full and round like so many others, but nevertheless they looked soft. She had never noticed how the younger woman bit her lip slightly as she was undoing particularly tight knots. Neither had she noticed the tender glow in her maids hardened grey-blue eyes as she brushed her hair. Nor the soft touch as she brushed the creases out of her robe. That night she couldn't help but find herself thinking about a pair of grey-blue eyes accompanying her own soft touch.

Sarah set down the basket and laid out the blanket, feeling a bit guilty. She had purposefully chosen a slightly smaller blanket than the last time. Sometimes Cora would lean against her to rest her head, once she had even laid her head in her lap. By picking a smaller blanket she hoped to increase the chance of this happening again; if anything, the other woman would at least be sitting closer to her. At times her own feelings disgusted her but for now, she stilled it. Accepting this particular part of her was something she still found difficult. Except for a few drunken tumbles in her younger years, she didn't have much experience in this field. She had once been employed by an older widow with whom she shared her bed for quite some time when she was still a housemaid. But both had acknowledged their relationship wasn't one that would last. Sarah moved on to fulfil her ambition to become a lady's maid, while Audrey would continue writing her long letters with details about fabrics, colours and fashion. On her days of they would visit the department store were Audrey used to work before she married, showing Sarah the newest fabrics and teaching her all about fashion and style. They would still spend their evenings together. But they gradually stopped seeing each other, only exchanging the odd letter with Christmas and birthdays. Yet it was Audrey with whom Sarah had shared her feelings for her current employer. Audrey her warned her to be cautious; keep her feelings to herself. But then "the incident" happened.

They chatted amicably for a while, Cora's wit had proven a worthy opponent for Sarah's own banter. Cora sniggered at Sarah's expression of jealousy as she downed three-quarters of a cake. Like most people, Sarah had initially thought that the countess ought to eat more. Now that it had become clear that she ate almost double the amount Sarah ate -all the while maintaining her willowy figure- Sarah had stopped telling her to eat more and started giving her side-eyes when she was free to. She had always been rather sturdy with broad shoulders and full hips, making her a bit of a packing mule when she was still a housemaid. After lunch, a comfortable silence seeped in. Listening to the sounds of the forest Sarah stole glances at Cora, who was blissfully lost in her embroidery, but she too eventually got lost reading her book surrounded by forest sounds. She didn't notice that the older woman had discarded her embroidery long ago, or that she had been studying her since. Cora had strangely enough never taken her maid to be the studious type, but the woman seemed to be reading at every free moment she found. She said strangely, as she knew her maid was both resourceful and perceptive, but in the past she had never thought of her as exceptionally intelligent. In retrospect, it felt rather short-sighted and snobbish. Sarah might not have profited from as much of a formal education as she had, nor did she have a soft and girl-ish face or refined elegance many of her friends exhibited. But it was only now that she realised that the other woman was both intelligent and beautiful nevertheless. Without much thought she pulled the other woman into a one-armed embrace. Sarah almost dropped her book at the unexpected motion. Suddenly she was resting against the other woman's shoulder, with Cora’s arm snaking around the small of her back. Cora was nuzzling her hair and stroking her affectionately. The close contact made Sarah’s heart pound in her chest, as it sent sparks through her body. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. The feeling of Cora’s body against her made her think of the incident again, leaving her with mixed feelings. Sarah didn’t dare to look the countess in the eyes, scared of what she might find there and of what the other woman might find reflected in her own. Sarah was still caught up in her thought when she suddenly realised she was looking straight up into Cora’s eyes. Cora, who was sporting a rather smug grin, had managed to lay her head down in her lap in a swift movement before she had had a chance to protest. Not that she could protest; not with Cora’s stroking her hair and beaming down at her. Sarah found herself transfixed looking up into the countess’ blue eyes, forgetting to worry about the story her face was telling. Cora had found herself equally enchanted. The younger woman looked utterly captivating. The open expression on her face softened the lines usually present. It was the first time that she found her dear O’Brien so open and trusting, making her all the more endearing. All in all, Cora simply wanted to scoop her up and kiss in her within an inch of her life, but refrained. Their current friendship was complicated and difficult as it was, with this meadow in the woods being the only place where they could _truly_ be friends. Instead she leant down as she whispered

“No matter how rare these outings may become and how peculiar our friendship may be, please know I am so very happy to have you as my dear friend- my closest friend.”

-and with this softly brushed her lips against Sarah’s forehead. Her eyes fluttered shut at the touch. Cora couldn’t help but realise how much she loved this woman, this snarky, complicated, and utterly lovable woman. She wanted to hold her close and feel the warmth of Sarah’s skin against her own, and a small part of her hoped this was what her friend wanted as well. Her friend. The word reminded her that for now maintaining this puzzling and fragile friendship of theirs was enough of a challenge.

As she opened her eyes, Sarah appeared to have found herself at a loss for words. Instead her maid reached up to kiss her forehead instead, tentatively pulling the countess down to lie next to her. Clasping their hands together to express that for which she couldn’t find the right words; no friend could ever be as precious and cherished as Cora.

***  
_Good luck_

“Do you remember?”

“Of course I do m’lady” O’Brien chuckled as she put the finishing touches to her hair and the tiara, it was the tiara the countess had been wearing ten years ago for her first Christmas dinner at Downton. She had purposefully decided to wear this particular tiara, to commemorate her ten years at Downton. Her mother had bought it for her just before she had left America, the precious stones hadn’t lost any of their shimmer or elegance over the past ten years. She loved the way it still contrasted with her hair and paired with her eyes, and just like ten years before, she could already feel the tiny pins of the tiara pricking her scalp telling her she’d have a headache before the night was over. She looked up to the mirror when she felt the soft touch of her maid’s hand on her shoulder, squeezing her softly. There was a small but sincere smile on her maid’s face, which was a rare sight even Cora knew. The woman might have a reputation for being vile both downstairs and downstairs - probably for a good reason Cora realized - but at times she found her maid to be rather delightful, and standing there with a subtle smile she definitely was.

As she walked towards the settee she pondered when it was that they had become close, it certainly hadn’t been in their first year. O’Brien had been efficient, conscientious, discrete and everything else one could wish for in a maid, but she had been rather distant. Nothing had betrayed the razor-sharp tongue or the devious sense of humour her maid possessed, and that she had come to love over the years. Most ladies would not have appreciated the scathing comments O’Brien would make at times, but most ladies also would not join their maids from time to time in this banter. They had an understanding about it, knowing that neither of them would ever talk like this if it weren’t for the presence of the other, and it made Cora feel special knowing that their little exchanges were unique to her alone. The countess had come to trust and appreciate the cynical soul that was her maid and would go as far as to label the other woman as a close friend, rather than just a servant, which is why she was going to do what she had been planning for the last couple of weeks. Little sparks of uneasiness crept up from her stomach, she had known her companion for almost ten years, but she suddenly wasn’t so sure of herself anymore. Would the other woman accept? Wouldn’t she think it inappropriate?

“It was a dreadful night ten years ago, I hope this one goes better. Don’t you know any good charms or custom for good luck with one’s parents-in-law?” Cora joked nervously, as her maid fastened the clips of her shoes. When she looked up Cora’s breath caught in her throat, she suddenly noticed the bright shining blue of O’Brien’s eyes, contrasted with the warm brown of the hair framing her face. Cora had never really noticed, but her maid was quite pretty, in a fiery and spirited way, if more fitted to the countryside than a stately mansion. The affectionate grin forming on her face also suited her quite well, and it was telling Cora that her maid was about to make one of her bolder comments, but she didn’t mind at all.

“I don’t know anything that could help to exorcise parents in law or anything else."

 Cora couldn’t help but raise a playful eyebrow "You surely must have needed a portion of extra luck from time to time?"

"My granny taught me as a kid, it definitely ‘elped me when I came ‘ere.” Sarah didn’t think that her mistress would still be nervous for some sodding dinner, not after ten years. Then again, the woman had gone completely off her head ten years ago and the memory probably wasn’t sitting well with her.

“Well, please enlighten me O’Brien, I fear I shall need it tonight.”

“I’m sure your ladyship will manage fine as it is, you always do. Besides it's just a little thing to comfort children.”

With a sigh, Cora realized she was down to her own luck tonight and decided to change the topic as to distract herself from her nerves.

“You really saved the day back then, with Miss Stratton suddenly being sick and all.” Sarah knew it was actually far from anything /sudden/ as she had deliberately put a good dose of laxatives in her predecessor’s tea, which she /should/ feel guilty about, but actually regarded as one of her better ideas of the past ten years. At the time she had been head housemaid and had been replacing Miss Stratton on her half days and during other _incidents_  - some of them possibly having been orchestrated by her. It had been very effective, because a few months later Miss Stratton had been dismissed and Sarah had obtained the post she had been pursuing for years.

 “-so I thought this might be a good moment.” the countess nervously stumbled as she interrupted her maid’s musings. “I know that technically speaking, it is still a few months, but I thought this might be a better moment.” With that, she reached to the little box standing on the table beside them " I would like to show you my appreciation for your ten years of service, but not only that, I am also deeply grateful for having you by my side as a companion and confidante." She opened the little box and put it in her maid’s hands.

Inside it was a small silver necklace; its pendant being a ‘C’ and an ‘S’ intertwined with small floral details. For a moment her normal poise and eloquence left her, nowhere in her years of experience as a lady’s maid had she ever been placed in such a situation. And God behold, for this first time in ages, one might even think that Sarah O’Brien was nervous. But she composed herself quickly and for a lack of better words replied:

"Thank you m’lady, you’re very kind."

“I hope I may call you my _friend_ from now on, Sarah”  
  
It hadn’t been the first time that her ladyship had used her Christian name, she had done it before in her moments of excitement or great happiness, as if forgetting the divide between them. However, this time the countess was seemingly on purpose neglecting their innate inequality. It thrilled her. Unlike many a servant she didn’t have any aspirations of bringing down their employers or obtaining a standing equal to theirs, but ambitious as she was she had to admit it gave her great pleasure to be acknowledged in such a way.

“I’d be honoured m’la-”

“Cora.” Lady Grantham -Cora, she corrected herself- interrupted  “If you are to be my friend, you are to address me as one.” the countess winked.

“Cora” Sarah carefully said, testing the sounds on her lips “I’d be honoured to call you my friend, Cora. Please tell me if I could do anything to thank you.”

"Just wish me luck tonight and be there as you always are." Cora said, giving her a soft smile, whilst lifting the necklace from the box and fastening it around the shorter woman’s neck.

Sarah couldn’t help but smile broadly, seeing the countess beam happily at her. She hesitated for a second, knowing she was about to break at least twenty rules, both written and unwritten, about interactions with one’s mistress, which even for Sarah O’Brien was a bit on the heavy side. But it wasn’t as if her mistress hadn’t had a heavy hand in doing so. With that the decision was made and Sarah drew closer. She lingered for a second whilst looking up into the crystal blue eyes before her, stood on her tiptoes and softly kissed the top of her mistress’ nose.

“For good luck m’lady”

 


End file.
